


Lessons

by celeste9



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: 5 Times, Age Difference, Angry Sex, Banter, Crushes, F/M, First Time, Flirting, Hate Sex, Kink Discovery, M/M, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Pre-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Punishment, Rough Sex, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 14:06:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14812805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celeste9/pseuds/celeste9
Summary: Poe wasn’t entirely sure why this kept happening, but it was apparently a thing he was maybe a little bit into.Five times Poe got spanked and one time he did the spanking.





	Lessons

**Author's Note:**

> It's my birthday so I set this as an unofficial deadline to get this fic finished, because I like pressure and this seemed like incredibly appropriate fic for me to post on my birthday, lol. Holdo has inexplicably survived, just go with it. :)

1.

“Poe Dameron,” a voice called out from behind Poe as he headed out of the hangar on Cloud City. “Don’t tell me you were planning on sneaking out without even saying hello.”

Poe turned and watched the man approaching him, handsome, silver threading through his black hair, cape swirling around his ankles. “General Calrissian,” Poe said, and rubbed the back of his head. “Or do you prefer Baron?”

“Lando,” he admonished. “We’re old friends, aren’t we?”

“I guess if you don’t hold me crashing your speeder against me.”

“Kids,” Lando said with a grin. “You’ve grown; I almost didn’t recognize you.”

Poe barely stopped himself from blurting out that Lando looked just as hot as Poe remembered. Embarrassing. He thought you were supposed to grow out of childhood crushes when you got older. “People say I take after my parents. I consider it a compliment.”

“You should,” Lando said, and Poe couldn’t stop his blush.

“Sorry, I just stopped in to get a part for my ship; this was the nearest planet. I didn’t want to be a bother. Everyone’s been really helpful.”

“On your way to the academy?”

“Yeah. I’m graduating next year.”

“Suppose I can’t tempt you away from the rigors of the Navy? I’m always looking for good pilots.”

“Tempting,” Poe said, and he was honestly flattered. “But the Navy’s kind of been my dream for forever.”

“Can’t blame me for trying.” Lando clapped Poe on the back. “Can I at least convince you to let me show you a good time while you’re here? Repairs’ll take a few hours; why don’t you join me for a drink?”

“That I can accept,” Poe agreed easily, which was how he ended up in Lando’s private suite, looking out the window at beautiful, misty Bespin, a drink in his hand and a pleasant, light alcoholic buzz in his head.

“There’s a line I’d really like to use right now,” Lando said, standing just behind Poe, “but I’d hate to use the same line twice.”

“Well, now you’ve ruined it. I wouldn’t have known if you’d just said it.”

“Yeah, but I would have.”

“The principle of it, huh?”

“That’s right.” Lando moved closer, and Poe turned his head so he could see him better. “Would it have worked?”

“Dunno, how good a line was it?”

Lando traced Poe’s cheek with one finger. “Pretty classic.”

“Probably then. I’m pretty primed to go with anything you say.” Poe took a sip to cover up the sudden swell of embarrassment that he had actually admitted that out loud. He wanted to be smooth, wanted to impress Lando, but he was fairly sure he was just coming across as the inexperienced kid he actually was.

“How did you know that was exactly what I wanted to hear?”

“Lucky guess?” Poe finished the drink. He lamented the loss of its distraction but didn’t have much time to ponder it; Lando took the glass from his hand and put it aside.

“So,” Lando said, standing uncomfortably close to Poe. Well, uncomfortable in the sense that Poe could smell his fancy, heady cologne and pick out each individual hair in his well-trimmed mustache. “I don’t know how much of Cloud City you’ve seen, but we’ve got some very nice bars and restaurants and that sort of thing in the upper levels. If you fancy a card game, I could get you a spot at any table you want.”

“Or?” Poe prompted, because he could feel it coming.

“Or,” Lando continued easily, his hand on Poe’s hip, “I could entertain you myself right here.”

Kriff. Poe’s face was burning, he was blushing so hard. One day he would be suave and charming, he was certain of it.

“Uh.” Poe swallowed. “Is that, uh, is that a thing you want to do?”

“I’m really losing my touch if you didn’t figure out I was seducing you.”

“No, I got it. I just… Me? Seriously?”

Lando nudged Poe just a little so that he was facing the window again, the angle just right so that Poe could see their dim reflection. They looked good together, Poe thought vaguely.

“You,” Lando said. “Seriously.”

It wasn’t that Poe was surprised someone might want him. He had dated some, and messed around, even if he had mostly tried to focus on his navy training. He enjoyed beings and beings generally enjoyed him. It was more that he was surprised that _Lando_ might want him.

Poe had fantasized about this when he was fourteen.

He wondered if he hadn’t had too much to drink and was dreaming this, but he didn’t think his imagination was good enough to so perfectly capture the way Lando smelled, the heat of his hand on Poe’s hip. _Don’t embarrass yourself,_ he thought. _Don’t ruin this. Don’t make him change his mind._

“So what you’re actually saying is,” Poe said, “that you’d like me to star in your private show?”

_Kriffing hell._

But Lando was laughing, and it didn’t feel like he was laughing at Poe, and he was still standing there, pressed into Poe’s space, leaning into him. So Poe went up on his toes and kissed him.

Blast, he was kissing Lando. Poe was still half-convinced he was dreaming this, some sort of fever dream brought on by whatever was in that drink Lando gave him, or maybe he was actually still back in his bedroom on Yavin 4, a teenager fantasizing about someone he could never have.

But Lando’s mouth was warm on Poe’s, teeth grazing his lip, tongue brushing over his, and kriff, he wasn’t dreaming, this was real, this was –  

“Damn, you’re tense,” Lando breathed against Poe’s mouth, fingers kneading his low back, just onto the swell of his ass.

“How much did I drink,” Poe said, and Lando laughed.

“Not that much. I’m not a complete scoundrel, and honestly, anyone I’ve got to get drunk to sleep with me, well, doesn’t seem worth it.”

“So we’re not just kissing then,” Poe said like a complete and utter nerf herder, and the magical day when he would be charming couldn’t come quick enough.

For some reason, Lando didn’t seem to find him completely appalling; his hands were still lightly moving up and down the line of Poe’s spine. “We can do whatever you want, but honestly, I hope you don’t want to stop here.”

“I’m not really that, uh, experienced?” Poe could feel the flush in his cheeks, hot and embarrassing.

“Plenty of time to learn,” Lando said with that wide grin.

With Lando kriffing Calrissian. Poe realized it was far past time to shut his brain off and enjoy the fact that apparently what Lando wanted was him.

Because hell yeah.

Poe kissed him, maybe too eager because he pushed Lando up against the window, colliding against it with a dull thud. Lando laughed into his mouth and let Poe rub up against him a few moments longer before guiding him back.

“I have a truly wonderful bed, just that way,” Lando pointed out. “Seems a shame not to take advantage of it.”

A bed, yes, and when Lando laughed again, Poe realized he might have said that out loud.

In an attempt to pretend he wasn’t flustered, Poe walked across the room unguided, dropping his jacket on the floor, then pulling his shirt off over his head and tossing that aside, too. With forced bravado he sat on the edge, leaning back on his hands, spreading his legs a little, and gazed at Lando, who had, of course, followed.

“Coming?” he said, with intentional - lame, okay, but intentional - innuendo.

“I hope so,” Lando said with good cheer, climbing over Poe’s hips and pushing him down, kissing him hard.

It was a little bit easier, after that, to shut his brain off. Lando’s mouth, Lando’s hands, Lando pressing between his legs. Poe was already more turned on than he had any right to be and Lando was making it worse - better - with the way he was purposely dragging himself just right over Poe’s rapidly swelling erection, his lips on Poe’s mouth neck, his jaw, his neck.

“Please,” Poe said, surprised at the desperate whine of his own voice, smoothing his hands down Lando’s spine.

“So polite,” Lando said, capturing Poe’s mouth in a kiss again, catching Poe’s lower lip with his teeth, and then he was sliding down, getting Poe’s pants open almost quicker than Poe’s brain could register.

“Stars,” Poe said at the feeling of Lando’s wet mouth on his dick. He grabbed at Lando’s head, scratching his fingers through Lando’s short hair.

It was easily the finest blowjob Poe had ever had, and he would have been embarrassed by the sounds coming out of his mouth if Lando hadn’t been making this pleased hum around his dick. His back arched, heels digging into the mattress, and he came with a speed that, again, he might have been embarrassed by if he didn’t feel so fucking amazing.

Lando was grinning at him, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. “You can get it up again quick, right? You’re young.”

Poe was still trying to remember how words worked. He stared at Lando.

Laughing, Lando leaned down to kiss him thoroughly, so that Poe could taste himself on Lando’s tongue. It was weirdly hot, but maybe only because it was Lando.

Lando yanked Poe’s pants off the rest of the way, pausing to pull his boots off, and Poe remembered how to speak. “You’re not naked enough.”

“Let me enjoy this first,” Lando said, nudging at Poe. “Turn over.”

Poe was pretty sure he would be happy to do whatever Lando asked. He rolled onto his front, shivering slightly at the way Lando trailed his fingers slowly over his back until he palmed his ass.

“Damn,” Lando said. “Your ass is fantastic.”

“Thanks?”

“Be proud,” Lando said, and smacked it.

Poe hissed.

“I kinda thought I’d fuck you, but I’ve changed my mind. You up for trying something?”

“Anything you want,” Poe said into the back of his arm, gasping when Lando pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the flesh of his ass.

“You can say no, you know,” Lando said, and hit Poe’s other cheek.

Poe grunted, more surprised than anything. Lando wasn’t using much force so it didn’t really hurt, but it did feel… odd. “I don’t want to say no.”

“Good.” Lando smacked him again, harder. Poe pushed up onto his knees a little and accidentally bit his tongue when the next slap came.

“Fuck,” he said, and Lando touched him more gently, a soothing caress.

Which he then followed up with two hard slaps, changing the angle each time, and then did the same on the other side.

“Ow,” Poe said between his teeth, pressing forward onto his forearms and dropping his head.

Lando draped himself over Poe, the soft, definitely expensive material of his clothing rubbing over Poe’s skin. He kissed the back of Poe’s neck and said, “Too much?”

“I…” Poe pressed his hips up to meet Lando, feeling the hard bulge of his dick. He couldn’t quite figure out if this was something he was into or not but he was at least interested, and he liked that Lando was into it. “No, it’s okay,” he said, and felt Lando’s soft lips on his skin again.

Then he was moving off, his hand on Poe’s ass again, once, twice, three times, so that Poe was certain his skin had to be red. Poe collapsed down against the mattress, shoulders tiring of holding himself up, as Lando pressed kisses to his abused flesh.

He heard a rustle of clothing and groaned at the feel of Lando’s erection pressing against him, dragging over his sore ass, between his cheeks. He felt the cool sensation of lube, Lando’s gentle fingers, and Lando said, “You’re so good,” murmuring it, and Poe rocked his hips, faintly surprised that he was getting hard again.

Lando rubbed himself off against him, dick sliding over the backs of Poe’s thighs and then up, between the cleft of his ass, Lando pushing a bit quicker, a bit more desperate, his breathing growing more ragged near Poe’s ear. Poe sighed and pushed back, wanting to be closer. He felt Lando shudder and spill over him, and Poe rubbed himself off on the sheets with Lando’s heavy body sinking him down.

“So, so good,” Lando said, hands on Poe’s waist, on his back, rolling him over to kiss him. “You want some ice?”

Poe laughed into his mouth. “Yeah, maybe. Not exactly the reason I was expecting to not be able to sit down.”

“Well, Cadet Dameron, I hope you’ve learned something.”

Poe scraped his short nails over Lando’s spine. “Definitely a lesson in my top five.”

Lando arched an eyebrow. “Only top five? Damn, I can do better.”

“You forget that I find flying better than sex half the time.”

“A boy after my own heart,” Lando said, sitting up. “Why don’t you have a shower, I’ll get that ice, and then I’ll buy you dinner?”

“Can we come back here after?” Poe asked, widening his eyes purposely, hoping for beguiling.

Lando chuckled and kissed Poe’s cheek. “Absolutely.”

-

2.

Poe strolled down the streets of Hosnian Prime, airspeeder traffic zooming in the lanes above his head, hands shoved in his pockets. This was a fancier area of the city and it showed; Poe looked shabby and out of place in his worn leather jacket. A heavyset Twi’lek woman looked down her nose at him and ignored his apology when he accidentally brushed into her, like his relative poverty would rub off on her or something. He took a turn past a restaurant that probably cost half his Navy paycheck for a meal and proceeded towards a slightly seedier neighborhood, more suited to his particular status. Poe liked to spend his time off traversing the city, particularly at night when the lights were bright, and the path was familiar.

His destination was a cantina he suspected that Twi’lek would die before stepping inside. It was Poe’s favorite; it was cheap and loud and the regular staff served him free drinks when he smiled.

Tonight it was crowded and Poe wove his way between full tables to approach the bar. He turned his smile on Geena, ordering whatever was on tap, and then nearly did a doubletake at the man beside him.

“Captain Solo?”

“Captain Dameron,” Han said, turning towards him, that familiar half-smile.

“It’s Commander, now, actually.”

“Oh, Commander, huh? It’s been a while, I guess. Good for you.”

“Thanks. I have to say I didn’t expect to see you on Hosnian Prime.” Han used to be in and out of here all the time, for Leia, but that was before… Maybe Poe shouldn’t have said anything.

“Just passing through.”

Poe knew better than to inquire. He had heard Han had gotten back into smuggling and considering Poe’s position, in addition to the respect he had for Han, the less he knew about illegal activity the better. “Well, you’re currently passing through my favorite cantina, so I’d say your taste is fantastic.”

“This place? Kid, you’ve gotta get out more.”

“I happen to like the atmosphere,” Poe insisted. “And the company’s great.”

“It is now,” Han said, quirking that almost-a-smile at Poe again. “Sorry if I’m cramping your style, though.”

“What? Oh, no. I’m not…” Poe rubbed the back of his head. “I’m busy, you know?”

Han chuckled. “Sure, kid.”

Poe sipped his drink. He wondered what he was supposed to say to a family acquaintance he hadn’t seen in years whose life had blown up. “I fly a T-85 now.”

“Yeah? Fancy.”

“Yeah, they’ve just rolled ‘em out. Beebee-Ate-- that’s my droid-- he’s practically bursting circuits he’s so excited.”

“Well, X-wings are great and all, but never really to my taste.”

“Then I take back what I said.”

“I mean, I can show you a real ship, if you like.”

Poe raised an eyebrow. “You’ve got the _Millennium Falcon_ here?” He wouldn’t lie, it had been his dream since he was a kid to fly that ship. Han had never obliged him.

“Course I do.”

Poe leaned on the bar counter and offered Han the smile that got him free drinks. “So is this all talk or are you gonna let me see her for myself?”

Han gulped the rest of his whiskey and gave Poe a look that suggested he knew exactly what sort of game Poe was trying to play. “Yeah, why not? I’ve got time to kill.”

“Now, I’m not saying I’m going to agree she’s better than an X-wing,” Poe said and drained his drink. “But I’m willing to be convinced.”

“Can your X-wing make the Kessel Run in less than twelve parsecs?”

“You’ve been using that line for decades,” Poe said, laying his hand on Han’s chest as he moved past him towards the door. “You need some new material.”

“You don’t fix what isn’t broken.”

“From what I hear, something in the _Falcon_ ’s always broken.”

Han stopped walking just in front of the exit. “Do you want to see her or not? Because I don’t need to spend my evening entertaining a smartass kid.”

“Hey, sorry, okay, I’m sorry. I won’t disrespect your ship, I promise.” Poe tried his smile again. “But the smartass part is just me, I can’t help it.”

“I remember,” Han said, and continued walking.

“Ouch.” Poe lengthened his stride a little to catch up to and then to keep pace with Han.

Han knew the shortcut to the spaceport, which Poe supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised by. Han used to spend a lot of time on Hosnian Prime, after all. Poe wondered if Han used to frequent Poe’s favorite cantina back then.

“Where’s Chewbacca?” Poe asked.

“Errand,” Han said, and Poe figured that was as much detail as he needed. That whole legality thing again.

The spaceport was loud and bustling, as it generally was. Hosnian Prime, as a matter of course, never slowed down, and there were always beings shuffling on and off-planet. Poe stopped when Han did, the easily recognizable bulk of the _Millennium Falcon_ before them, just across the ramp.

The thing was, the _Falcon_ was not an impressive ship. It was an old freighter that looked like its best days had been during the Old Republic. It looked like junk.

But while Han Solo might have a tendency to exaggerate, it didn’t take away the fact that the _Falcon_ was a hell of a fast ship. The _Falcon_ had gotten Luke Skywalker off Tatooine, and Princess Leia off the Death Star. It had been in the Battle of Yavin and escaped from Hoth. The _Falcon_ was a legend and Poe had grown up on those stories.

So he might have looked a little impressed as he stared.

Han clapped his shoulder. “It’s all right, kid. Gape all you want.”

“I still like X-wings,” Poe muttered, and followed Han up into the ship.

Poe had been on the _Falcon_ a few times when he was a kid, running the corridors, playing in the smuggling compartments, losing at dejarik. He had sat in the cockpit and pretended to fly and he had sat in the gun well pretending to shoot down TIEs. The ship was still familiar as an adult and he didn’t need Han to show him the way.

He let Han show him the way anyway, and didn’t have to fake his interest when Han pointed out various modifications. Han was an amazing pilot, and while the _Millennium Falcon_ was a good ship, she needed someone who really knew their stuff to keep her in the sky.

Poe made himself comfortable in the pilot’s chair while Han arched an eyebrow at him.

“Hey,” Poe said. “I’m definitely not gonna be convinced if you don’t even let me fly her.”

“Nice try. Maybe when you’re older.”

“Aw, come on. I’m twenty-eight! I’m a commander in the Navy!”

“Yeah, and I still remember you crashing speeders.”

“That was one time!”

Han’s mouth was quirking and Poe realized he was doing this on purpose. “Said I’d let you see her,” he said. “Never said anything about flying.”

Poe could play the long game. He slid down slightly in the chair, spreading his legs. Han’s eyes dropped down briefly, almost reflexively.

Neat.

“You said you had some time to kill?”

Han’s smile spread slow and easy.  “If I didn’t know better I’d say you were trying to pick me up.”

“And if I was? Would it work?”

Han leaned back against the console, hands pressed to the edge. “C’mere, kid.”

Poe sprang up with no regard to how overly eager it made him look. Lando Calrissian wasn’t the only rebel hero who may have set teenage Poe’s heart aflutter, okay? He pressed himself right in against Han, tilting his head up. “Does this mean, yeah, it works?”

“What do you think?”

“I think this grumpy thing you’ve got going on is just a front. Admit you like me, Captain Solo.”

“I don’t like anyone, ‘cept Chewie.”

“Uh huh.” This seemed like appropriate timing for pushing things a bit further, so Poe leaned up and pressed his mouth to Han’s.

Han’s response was immediate, firm pressure, one hand stroking the back of Poe’s neck and the other clutching his hip. He didn’t pull back until Poe did, breathing the faintest bit quicker.

Poe grinned at him. “You were saying? ‘Cause that sure feels like you like me.”

“You talk too much,” Han said, moving swiftly enough that Poe was bent over the console faster than he could even react.

“Oof,” he said, somehow not minding at all the sudden manhandling.

He wasn’t really surprised at the interested way Han’s hands were moving over him, stroking down his spine and over his ass, and he also wasn’t really surprised when Han unbuckled his belt and yanked his pants down to his knees. Han’s hands were cooler than the air of the _Falcon_ but not unpleasant, and Poe liked the drag of his palms, the familiar play of callouses earned from blasters and flight sticks.

“So,” Poe said, “I’m kinda curious. Fucking me in the cockpit is fine, but letting me fly is not?”

He was, in fact, surprised at the hard smack of Han’s calloused palm to his ass.

He swore. “What was that for?”

“For being a cocky flyboy with a smart mouth.”

Poe looked back over his shoulder, incredulous. “Are you kriffing serious right now?”

All that got him was another slap.

“This is deeply unfair; you know how hypocritical it is for--” Poe gasped and swallowed the rest of his words when Han slapped him harder. He wondered what it was with his teenage heroes wanting to spank him. Was it him or them?

Poe could accept that it might be both.

When he felt the slide of Han’s finger between his cheeks, he could also accept that he wasn’t over-eager to complain.

-

3.

Poe turned off the welding torch and sat back on his heels, surveying his work. He wanted Chewbacca to have a look at it; while he was proud of the fact he had apparently impressed the Wookiee enough to be allowed to run repairs on the _Millennium Falcon_ unsupervised, he wasn’t prepared to risk Chewie’s displeasure by moving on without approval.

He pushed his face shield up his forehead to have a better look. He noted that the sky just beyond the hangar was darker than it had been before; he must have been up here longer than he’d realized. He was surprised Chewie hadn’t come and found him yet, actually. Maybe he’d got caught up in his own modifications.

It was easy to lose track of time doing this sort of thing, Poe knew. There was always something to be done, and it was soothing. A problem with a fixable solution. The smell of oil and metal, the strong feel of the ship.

Poe was grateful for the trust Chewbacca had bestowed on him; he liked the distraction, and he didn’t have his own ship yet. It wasn’t like there was a dearth of problems that needed solving and work that needed doing around the Resistance, but there was just something about this sort of activity that always calmed Poe down.

He told himself it had nothing to do with Han, and that one night on Hosnian Prime.

“Why am I not surprised to see you up there, flyboy?”

Poe shifted a little to get a better view down to the ground, watching Holdo gaze up at him. He was always caught by the brightness of her hair first, and then the faintly amused set of her mouth that seemed to be her default when she looked at him.

Sometimes mixed with frustration or annoyance, but tonight it was just amusement.

“You wanna come up, Admiral? Get your hands dirty?”

“I would, but I’d hate to show you up. I know you’re trying to impress Chewbacca.”

Poe chuckled. “My Shyriiwook isn’t great but I’ve picked up a lot of curse words recently.”

Holdo crossed her arms in front of her chest. “He actually says to tell you to come down already, and yes, he said it less than politely.”

Laughing again, Poe tossed his face shield and the torch into his tool kit and walked to the edge, clambering down, dragging the kit with him. “I’ll show him tomorrow, then. If he’s grumpy it makes him less impressed even when I do something genuinely impressive.”

“It’s actually impressive simply that Chewbacca lets you tinker with the _Falcon_ unsupervised,” Holdo said. “I remember how he gets.”

“Think he feels bad for me, honestly.”

“He’s fond of you.”

“Eh, I grow on everyone. Even you, Admiral, huh?”

Holdo’s expression was still absent of annoyance. “Perhaps.”

“Did you want me for something?” Poe asked, wiping his hands on his pants.

“Well, isn’t that a question.”

“I stumbled right into that, didn’t I? But not what I meant. Unless you wanted me to? Mean that? Er.” Poe rubbed the back of his head. “Admiral?”

Holdo stepped forward, dress swishing around her feet. “We never had a real discussion about what passed between us on the _Raddus._ ”

“I thought that was--”

“I know your heart was in the right place, Commander,” Holdo said, her long fingers brushing Poe’s wrist. “I hope you understood that mine was, too, and the delicacy of what I was trying to accomplish.”

“I do, and I told Leia--”

“Yes, I know. I think you learned something. But I wonder… if it might be best for us to deal with the situation more personally?”

“And when you say personally…”

Holdo’s eyes were sparkling in something more than mischief that Poe was kind of into. “I mean, Commander, that I would appreciate you accompanying me to my quarters, if you were inclined.”

Poe lifted his chin a little. “Not for actual discussion, I’m guessing.”

“Well, maybe later. We’ll see how it goes.”

“Lead the way,” Poe said, gesturing, and figured he could retrieve his tools tomorrow.

“Lovely,” Holdo said, and for a moment Poe paused to wonder what exactly she had in mind.

But then he decided it didn’t really matter.

In her quarters, Holdo watched him assessingly. “You believe in the importance of chain of command, don’t you, Commander?”

“Sure,” Poe said. “It’s about trust, right? I believe in my team, and that they’ll do what I need them to do, and I can see why my past actions have sometimes been… Anyway I should’ve given you room to handle things the way you saw fit. I was pushy.”

“Leia values that you think for yourself, and that you think unconventionally. She values that you take risks. I do, too. But I think we can both agree that in a stressful situation, we rubbed each other the wrong way, and you flagrantly disregarded my authority.”

“Yeah,” Poe said, resisting the urge to fidget.

“So perhaps,” Holdo said, moving towards him, “we might have a lesson.”

When she bent him over, it wasn’t that Poe couldn’t guess what she had in mind. It was more that he hadn’t expected… Well, he hadn’t expected any of it.

The bed was soft against his cheek and his nostrils were filled with a scent both clean and faintly sweet, not cloying, but like Holdo pressed fresh herbs between her sheets or something. Her quarters smelled like nowhere else on base.

Her fingers were long, and her nails trimmed but long enough to feel. Poe’s pants were around his knees and the air was just cool enough to make his skin prickle, hairs standing on end.

The first slap was hard enough to make him gasp. The smack of her hand on his flesh rang out in the silent room.

“That’s one,” Holdo said, her voice soft but firm.

“One,” Poe repeated, getting the idea that maybe that was a thing he should do.

The second blow made him bite his lip. “Two.”

By the fourth his ass was sore and he was clenching his fingers into the sheets.

Yeah, Poe thought, his eyes squeezed closed. He wouldn’t have expected any of it.

-

4.

“General, if I have to file one more requisitions request, I quit.”

Leia, seated at her desk across from Poe, didn’t even have the decency to raise her eyes from her datapad. “I won’t hold my breath waiting for your resignation.”

“I mean it,” Poe insisted. “One more report and I’ll do it. My eyes are crossing. My fingers are numb. My ass is sore.”

The quietest huff of laughter escaped past Leia’s lips. “Isn’t there something on your ship you can fiddle with? That always cheers you up.”

“Beebee-Ate’s running diagnostics on her. I’m not allowed to tinker until he’s done.”

“What a tragedy. How will you cope?”

“Like I said. One more report and I’m out.”

“Hollow threats are unimpressive, Poe,” Leia said, finally looking at him. Her datapad beeped with the sound of an outgoing message.

“Datawork might drive me to it one day,” Poe said, finger dragging over his screen. “Anyway, we’ve both been at this for hours. I’m done, and you need a break.”

“I think I’m fully capable of judging that for myself.”

“Nah,” Poe said, and grabbed her datapad and shut it off. “I know Kaydel considers it her unofficial duty to remind you to eat, so consider this me doing my part.”

Leia raised one perfect eyebrow. “Your idea of a break is getting Chewbacca to let you take apart the _Falcon_ ’s hyperdrive. I’m not sure we’re exactly compatible.”

“Oh, General,” Poe said, smiling slowly. “You do me a disservice. I pride myself on my compatibility.”

That made Leia roll her eyes. “All right, then, flyboy. Show me there’s some substance to your talk.”

“Er. What?” Honestly Poe had not expected that to work. He hadn’t even fully meant it; he’d mostly been joking, with maybe a bit of wish fulfillment fantasy coloring it.

He had never honestly expected to be able to knock most of his childhood heroes off his list, one by one.

“Don’t let your bravado fail you now,” Leia said, standing and coming around her desk to trail her hand over the back of Poe’s neck.

“I’m just… surprised, honestly, General.”

“Maybe I need to let out a little stress sometimes, too,” Leia said, a bit softer.

Poe watched her for a second, this weird feeling of warm fondness building inside him, and then, feeling bolder, stood and stroked his hand down her arm, before leaning in to kiss her mouth. “I’m game,” he said against her mouth, and Leia nipped his lip.

“Good,” she said, and Poe followed her out the door.

They kept up a steady stream of innocuous, Resistance-related conversation as they walked, just so that no one would think twice. Not that, Poe suspected, anyone would, anyway. Poe spent a good deal of his time ordinarily in Leia’s company, and it wasn’t like he had a sign on his ass that said, ‘about to fuck the General’, or anything.

Poe had never been in Leia’s quarters before but it was about what he had expected; simple and clean, some clutter of work on the desk, the bed made up with a blanket in the Alderaanian style that he knew had been a gift from Admiral Holdo. The vast majority of their personal possessions on D’Qar had been lost, so everyone’s rooms were more sparse than they had been.

Poe was grateful that he always wore his mother’s ring; it was the one thing he owned that was more than irreplaceable, that he would truly mourn if it were to be lost.

“Your bed’s nicer than mine,” he said to Leia.

“Well, isn’t that fortunate?”

Poe grinned at her and dipped his head for a kiss. Leia’s hands glided down his spine and over his waist as she pressed closer. He considered that this was, in fact, a better outlet for stress and boredom and frustration than fussing with the hyperdrive of the _Millennium Falcon_.

“I have a proposition,” Leia murmured, then shoved him.

Poe stumbled back a little and then dropped onto the bed. “Yeah?”

Leia knelt over his hips and Poe immediately grasped her waist. She kissed him again, then pushed him down until his back was on the mattress. “There’s something I’d like to indulge.”

Something about the way Leia said it sent a shiver down Poe’s spine and his dick twitched in interest. “Please.”

Her warm lips were on his skin, sliding over his jaw and beneath his chin; she kissed down the line of his throat. “On occasion you can be incredibly frustrating.”

“I know. Sorry.”

Leia bit his neck, enough to sting. “If it wouldn’t make me sound like I’m recreating a cheap porn holovid, I might say you’re naughty and deserve to pay for that.”

Poe snorted and used his grip on Leia’s hips to tug her down, rubbing against her for more friction. “I can be very naughty, though.”

“Very,” Leia agreed, freeing Poe from his boots and his pants, then his underwear. She smirked. “There’s a part of you I haven’t seen since you were very… small.”

“General,” Poe groaned, throwing his arm in front of his eyes. What a time to remind him she’d known him when he was in diapers.

“If you won’t call me Leia now,” she said, curling her palm around his dick, “I suppose you never will.”

“Leia, please,” Poe gasped, and she laughed.

“That was easy. But like I said, indulge me.” She released him and shifted her position faintly.

Then she slapped his thigh, her nails grazing his skin.

Oh. Okay. So that’s how it was gonna be? Apparently he was not only going to pick up the majority of his teenage crushes, but they were all going to spank him too.

Poe spread his legs a little, and Leia smiled.

“You can be surprisingly good when you want to be,” she said, and hit him again, catching more of his inside thigh. He was a bit more sensitive there, almost but not quite ticklish, and his heart thumped harder in his chest.

“Thought I was naughty,” Poe said, and Leia hit him harder.

She cupped his jaw, dragging her fingers over his skin. “That, too. You disobeyed me, and Vice-Admiral Holdo.”

“Wait,” Poe said, suspicion rising. “Is this--”

“Just a little recompense for bad behavior.”

“But Holdo already punished me!”

“I know,” Leia said, and pushed him roughly over onto his belly.

“You know?” Poe tried looking back at her over his shoulder. “Wait, wait. You talked about it? Is this some kind of elaborate--”

Leia slapped his ass, the cool metal of her ring on his skin, giving Poe a sudden flashback to the bridge of the _Raddus,_ her hand sharp on his cheek. “Would you like to stop?”

“Not really,” Poe admitted. “I’d just like to state for the record how unfair this is.”

“Actually, I think there’s justice in it. Amilyn had her turn, now it’s mine.”

Poe could sort of see the logic, but he was still stuck on the idea that Holdo and Leia apparently shared notes about him.

But you know, even that wasn’t terribly surprising, once he thought about it.

“Do you want me to count?”

Leia chuckled, and kissed the back of his neck before striking her hand out once more. Poe grunted and flexed his fingers in the sheets.

“That’s all right,” Leia said, her voice gentler than her hand, and Poe rubbed himself against the mattress.

He wasn’t entirely sure why this kept happening, but it was apparently a thing he was maybe a little bit into.

Maybe.

-

5.

Poe wondered if it meant that he’d hit it big, really made a name for himself, when upon capture by the First Order, the stormtroopers jerking him roughly along brought him straight to General Hux. No holding area for him.

The general was waiting for him, his uniform neat and perfect, his hands clasped behind his back. He looked like his birthday had come early and Poe was just the gift he wanted.

Poe couldn’t raise his hands what with the binders and all, but he made a sort of expansive, shrugging gesture meant to indicate their surroundings. “This one’s bigger than your last ship. Compensating for something?”

Hux’s lip curled. “You seem to be the one compensating, continually running off your mouth to hide that you aren’t in control. Bravado to mask your fear.”

“Honestly I’m not sure why you think this is going to go better for you than last time. Unless you’ve got your Supreme Leader hiding in the corner somewhere, you may as well not even bother.”

“Oh, this isn’t about getting information from you. This is personal.”

“Personal, huh? Sounds kinky. Got a thing for me, Hux?”

“That’s not how I would put it.” Hux nodded to the troopers. “Wait outside. I will call for you when I need you.”

“Yes, General,” they said, nearly in unison, and saluted before leaving.

“Just you and me now, babe,” Poe said, highly amused at the way Hux’s pale cheeks flushed just a little.

“We’ll see how big your mouth is once I’ve gotten started,” Hux said, grabbing Poe by the back of his jacket and shoving him forward until he collided with a table.

 _Ow,_ Poe thought, but said, “You’re kind of preoccupied with my mouth. I’d offer to blow you but I won’t guarantee I won’t bite.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Hux ground out from beneath his teeth, yanking a fistful of Poe’s hair and pushing him down.

Poe reflexively braced himself against the table, the binders knocking with a clang. An unaccountably familiar position, but not one Poe could honestly say he had expected to be in with General Hux.

Not that he had expected it the other times, either, but still. Hux.

“Let me guess,” he said. “This is your idea of punishment. Probably supposed to be humiliating, show you’re in control, you’ve got power over me, but still weirdly sexual. Like you’ve entertained this fantasy in your quarters at night.”

“I am in control,” Hux said, and as if to prove it, undid Poe’s belt and pulled his pants and underwear down. There was a chill in the air that hit Poe’s bare skin immediately and honestly, it was humiliating to have his naked ass out, bent over a table with his hands bound, in front of Hux.

But Poe would die before he gave Hux the satisfaction.

“Yeah, you’re a big man, Hugs,” he said. “Go on, beat the bound prisoner. Show how tough you are.”

That made Hux angry, which was basically what Poe had expected. The slap came swiftly and painfully, more force behind it than any of Poe’s previous partners had used, particularly on the first go. Poe bit his lip and forced himself still.

Hux slapped him again, then once more, the sound of his palm so loud in the quiet. There was something odd about hearing the smack of his own flesh echo in the peaceful room that seemed to intensify the hurt.

“Nice form,” Poe said, blinking against the way his eyes had teared up. “Wouldn’t have expected it.”

The increased speed and pressure really didn’t come as a surprise. The table legs were thudding on the floor as the force of Poe rocking into it knocked it faintly off balance with each blow. Poe’s knees buckled a little and he lost count.

But Poe was learning something about himself. His ass smarted and yet somehow his dick was slowly, slowly swelling with interest, as if he was getting off on the pain of it. Not ‘as if’, he was.

Huh.

Before, Poe had been intrigued by his partners and the spanking had always been playful enough that even when he was being ‘punished’, Poe’s brain still registered the ‘sexy’ aspect of it all.

Hux wasn’t trying to be playful, or sexy. He was just being a dick, and it hurt.

But Poe was still kind of, sort of into it.

The cessation of Hux’s blows took a moment for Poe to register. Hux was holding Poe’s hips, and Poe could just feel the outline of his clothed erection as it pressed against the cleft of his ass.

“Knew you’d get off on sadism,” Poe said, looking down at the table.

Hux reached around to wrap his hand tightly around Poe’s dick, making him gasp. He wasn’t fully hard, but he was aroused enough to notice. “And you seem to like pain, or maybe humiliation, so where does that leave us?”

“Dunno, you tell me. I guess you’re not that bad, as far as skinny, pasty, evil gingers are concerned.”

Hux squeezed, and Poe bit his lip again.

The sound of clothes rustling hit Poe’s ears and he could guess what would happen next; he was faintly surprised and mostly grateful that Hux simply proceeded to jerk himself off, spilling over Poe’s ass when he finished.

His ass was sore enough without a no prep anal fuck.

Hux was even thoughtful enough to pull up Poe’s pants for him, though the drying come was going to be nasty. Poe winced at Hux’s rough treatment of him, at the slide of his pants over his reddened flesh, but he hoped his expression as they faced each other again betrayed none of what he was feeling.

Hux’s pale cheeks were more flushed than before but his uniform still looked perfectly kempt.

“Was it good for you, baby?” Poe asked.

There was something of a snarl in Hux’s smile. “And you still can’t stop pretending,” he said. He reached forward and finally, truly surprised Poe. He unlocked the binders, which clattered to the floor.

“You’re free to go,” Hux said.

Poe kept staring at his wrists, freed, and then up at Hux. “I’m what?”

Hux waved his hand. “We’re done here. Go back to your band of rebel scum.”

There was a catch, clearly. “So you can track me?”

“Oh, there’s no need of that. Tell your general we’ll be seeing her soon.”

Poe stepped forward. “I’m going to kill you.”

Hux wouldn’t even give Poe the pleasure of backing away. “You can try. I assure you you won’t get far here, and then I will have to have my men shoot you.”

Weighing his options swiftly, Poe decided this might actually be a time for restraint. Even if he did manage to kill Hux, which seemed unlikely given the guards outside the door and Poe’s lack of a weapon, the loss of one man, even General Hux, likely wouldn’t do much to help his cause. There was no dearth of officers eager to take Hux’s place and Poe was more useful to the Resistance not, well, dead. “I’m going to make you regret letting me go. You should’ve shot me when you had the chance.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

“You’re crazy, Hugs,” Poe said, eyeing him more thoughtfully. “I’m kinda starting to like that about you.”

“How nauseating,” Hux said, and called for the stormtroopers to escort Poe to a ship and let him go.

The ridiculousness of the entire situation was almost enough to block out the discomfort of a long, intentionally circuitous flight out of First Order space in a cramped cockpit, just after having been thoroughly spanked.

Almost.

-

+1

It had been nearly a standard month since Kylo Ren came home to his mother. Thus far Poe had avoided being alone in the same space as him, which was for the best. He didn’t trust himself not to do something his relationship with Leia would regret.

Kylo was ostensibly helping them stand against Hux’s First Order but he had made no apologies, not for anything, and not to anyone. (Well, maybe to his mother, in private. Poe wouldn’t presume to know what was going on there.) He was too proud to, Poe suspected. Not that an apology would be worth much, in Poe’s opinion, but it would demonstrate effort, at least, and he would’ve liked the opportunity to throw it back in Kylo’s face.

Instead Kylo stood tall with his head high, a collar around his neck disrupting his connection to the Force. That, at least, Poe enjoyed.

Poe wasn’t certain if he was more surprised or irritated to find Kylo on the other end of a knock to his door. “Lost? Your mother’s that way.”

Kylo’s lips thinned. “I meant to come here.”

“Why the hell for?”

“Can we not argue in the doorway?”

Considering for a moment, Poe finally stepped back, allowing Kylo entrance. “Make it fast.”

The door closed. Kylo stood like a large, awkward, black-garbed giant in the middle of Poe’s quarters. He said nothing.

“What do you want?”

“I…” Kylo swallowed. “Do you remember when we were kids?”

“I remember that your father took you to Yavin Four when your mother was busy with the Senate. I also remember that you killed him.”

The visible flinch Kylo made was actually pretty gratifying.

The silence stretched. Kylo seemed to decide on trying a new tactic to accomplish whatever the hell he was here for. “My mother suggested we find some way to work together.”

Ah. That was why.

Poe crossed his arms over his chest. “Really? So you’re here to, what? Try to make me see we have some common ground? I don’t give a fuck. I’ll help you if I need to if that’s what it takes for us to win, but that’s it. Don’t expect my forgiveness, or my understanding.”

“I don’t.”

It was said so matter of factly that Poe was struck speechless for a moment.

The moment passed.

“Then why the hell are you in my quarters?” Poe exclaimed.

“Because you won’t fucking look at me anywhere else!” Kylo shouted.

Poe stepped towards him. “If I look at you all it makes me want to do is punch you in the throat.”

“Do it then!”

Eyebrows drawing together, Poe said, “What?”

“You think we can be on the same side like this?” Kylo raised his hand, gesturing widely. “You think my mother could trust us in the same place, under stressful circumstances, when you’re as likely to blow up on me as you are to fight our enemies? I _tortured_ you. I attacked your friends. I blew up your hangar bay. Kriffing hit me for it!”

Poe rushed forward and shoved him; Kylo hardly swayed. “You fucking bastard! Do you know how many people died on the _Raddus_?”

“You were my enemy!”

“You’re still my enemy! You dick! The only thing that’s stopping me from shooting a hole through your head is that I love your mother!”

Poe stood there fuming while Kylo blinked at him.

“Feel better?” he asked.

“No,” Poe said, and shoved at Kylo again. It still hardly budged him. Fucking giant. “Get on your knees.”

Kylo frowned. “What?”

Poe pushed down on Kylo’s shoulders. “I said, get on your knees!”

It surprised him when Kylo dropped. He was serious about this.

Maybe he was serious about everything.

“Move over to the bed,” Poe said, and watched Kylo’s jaw tighten as he fought the urge to resist. He shuffled over to the end of the bed and faced it.

The desire to keep Kylo on his knees was strong, but it would be a bad angle. Poe let him stew there a while longer before he said, “Stand up and bend over.”

Kylo hesitated for a good long while. Poe strode forward and yanked at his hair. “I said, stand up.”

Finally Kylo stood, bracing his hands on the mattress.

Sure and efficient, Poe unbuckled Kylo’s belt and tugged down his standard issue pants. He watched Kylo’s fingers flex into the sheets like he was reigning in his temper.

Poe flicked at the collar around his neck. Such a handy little thing.

He let his eyes roam down over Kylo, long limbs and pale skin. His ass wasn’t bad, muscular, like the rest of him.

He remembered being bent over the console of the _Millennium Falcon,_ and he remembered Han Solo.

Poe wondered how Leia could ever, ever forget, but of course, she wouldn’t. She just loved her son.

He struck swift and firm, bringing his hand back far enough to build up momentum, recalling how Hux had done it. Intent to deliver pain. The sound of it was so loud.

Kylo just took it.

It wasn’t something Poe had ever done before but it was easy enough to get into it; he certainly had enough anger to express. He thought of Captain Solo, and of Leia. He thought of Finn, his back ripped open, and Rey. He thought of Lor San Tekka and the innocent villagers of Tuanul. He thought of Tallie and the pilots, mechanics, and droids unfortunate enough to have been in the hangar bay when Kylo fired his shot. He even thought of _Black One,_ the best ship he had ever flown.

Poe lost count, and Kylo’s pale, pale skin was an angry red. Poe’s palm stung a little from the repeated impact and he could imagine how Kylo’s ass felt, but Kylo made only the smallest grunts and intakes of breath, his back shuddering.

He let Poe hurt him, let Poe take out his emotions on him, and by the time Poe realized he couldn’t do it anymore he thought he believed for the first time that Kylo actually meant this, that he wanted this to work.

Poe ran his hand down Kylo’s spine. He pretended he didn’t notice Kylo’s erection, because he thought maybe that would push this into genuine humiliation for Kylo, to acknowledge it.

Poe didn’t need to humiliate him.

“I’ll get you some ice,” he said, and Kylo let his knees buckle until he slid down to the floor.

Maybe now they could move forward, for Leia, and for the Resistance.


End file.
